Meeting Halfway
by SunshineFromMyHeart
Summary: Mary's abrupt decision to marry Sebastian has changed their already ambiguous relationship. Will their trip through the country allow them to resolve their feelings for each other? Taking place between ep. 9 and 10.


**Title: **MeetingHalfway

**Author: **SFMH

**Disclaimer: Reign **belong to the CW, I only have this story**.**

**Author's Note: **

**For Reign watchers, **this story takes place right after episode 9 : _For King and Country._

**For the other readers, **I tried to inject as much background to help you get a grasp of the plot.

Happy reading.

**~ 50****th**** thread special - Meeting Halfway ~**

Mary needed to walk to ease her sore body; each step she took was a welcomed relief to the pain she suffered after staying in the sitting position the whole day. Their journey had started early morning, and the carriage had headed south along the King's road until sunset.

The King had insisted his eldest son made his first official tour to gain recognition amongst his people, resolute to bring them to accept his bastard as the future King of France, and of course, England and Scotland. There was no better way in his mind to promote his legitimization, than to have him travel with the Queen of Scotland herself, his soon to be wife.

Her stroll through the lively encampment of large tents was also a way to ease her mind: the latest events leading to their engagement were still heavy on her heart. Francis, her former betrothed had been stripped off his life, prompting him to leave court while Sebastian, his half-brother had to step up as the heir against his will to avoid beheading. This trip was a fortunate getaway from the castle and its overwhelming atmosphere.

It wasn't farfetched to consider she also anticipated this trip for another reason: a good means to get closer. Alas, Sebastian had politely declined the carriage ride, favoring his own horse, as the soldier he was raised to be. Of course, he had come to check on her from time to time, before riding back amongst the fifty armed men accompanying them.

Still deep in her thoughts, the young Queen reached the surroundings of their tent, hastily assembled by their servants for the night. Unconsciously, her eyebrows combined into a frown, upon the sight her husband-to-be offered her once again. Hesitating, she tried to suppress her first instinct, fearing she would draw him away with her constant nagging. Yet in the end, her station got the best of her:

"There will come a point when your squire will have to do his work eventually."

His back to her, Sebastian felt a smile crept involuntarily to his lips, for her presence, her voice, as stern as she made it sound, had this effect on him. Still at his task, he pictured her: furrowed brows, lips pursed, and arms most likely crossed over her chest.

To reinvent himself overnight, respect social conventions and become a decent suitor for her, were goals he strived to achieve. Unfortunately, his behavior was natural and imprinted in him. He turned to the voice behind him bearing a sheepish smile, so focused on her disappointment in him that he didn't notice how her face subtly softens because he also, had that effect on her.

"Mary, I understand your discontent, but this horse is a gift from my father. I have taken care of it since I was a child." Still, willing to make an effort he added, "I promise I will stop, as soon as we get back to the castle... If you agree to do this with me, one last time?" He added with a grin.

"I've groomed a few goats in the convent but…" She started hesitating, partaking in her betrothed's shenanigans could only encourage him, she needed to take the lead and make him a true King. "…But it was another time, when I wasn't _Queen_."

Insistent he handed her the brush "There. Try it, it is liberating to take care of another soul." Maybe he was right; maybe she didn't have to be so uptight. After all, they were on the road; there was nobody here but servants and soldiers. She looked around once more, amused by the thought of the future Queen regent of France grooming a horse, and took the brush from his hand, positioning herself next to him.

"No your grip needs to be strong while your touch gentle," saying so, he unconsciously, placed his hand on hers. Standing right behind her and guiding her gently.

"See? Like that." He whispered, as the realization of her proximity dawned on him, the feel of her hair light on his cheek, feeling a faint tingle throughout his body. A gentle pain through his veins, growing stronger the moment her flowery smell invaded him.

Time stood still, servants gossiping, men in armor sparing, the clamors of vicinity fading to the background. Moments as this one, was all he ever wanted: being able to _be_ with her as a woman, not a Queen. His eyes went down from her neck, to her well-defined shoulders, her waistline. He swallowed with difficulty, remembering the countless time he had thought about the outline of her silhouette since that night at the inn.

"I see," was all Mary could murmur also fighting her own sensual battle. The moment she had felt the contact of his skin, had been invaded by his raw earthy-and a tad leathery scent, she had felt intoxicated. His hand was warm on hers, his breath on her neck enticed reactions she couldn't suppress from her body. She felt him so close; she could almost sense the flimsy tickle of his unshaven chin.

They have been friends, even had shared a thoughtless kiss before. However, the sudden change in their lives had deprived them of the time to introspect their feelings. Her decision to change the line of succession had been abrupt, and since she had come back to French court, was deprived of the luxury to settle her heart. Yet, its drumming when he was so close was telling her another story.

Fearing rejection once again, he hesitantly, brought his other hand to her shoulder fighting his desire to turn her around and pull her in another spontaneous kiss. The simple gesture felt like a jolt of electricity to her already aroused skin, and surprised she let go of the brush.

"I am sorry… I have to go," she stammered, running away, avoiding his stare so he wouldn't see her blushing face.

Sebastian watched her walk away from him once more, slippery in his hands. Fate definitely had a weird sense of humor: putting her on his path, forbidding him from her and now pushing her in his arms, yet not as his woman but as his Queen. Involuntary a heavy sigh escaped his lips; soon, the night and its darkness would be upon them. To clear his mind from these frustrating circumstances, he decided to go hunting.

The servant brought in a small bassinet for her ablutions; she let herself undressed, under the glimmer of the candles, her mind absent. She remembered feeling the same embarrassment, when they had broken their kiss. And kept trying to hush the small voice in her mind, murmuring to her _because it was pleasurable_.

She wasn't able to stop her mind from wandering, and next thing she knew, he was undressing her, his strong hands on her body, enticing the same reactions as earlier, she quickly dismissed her servant, unable to control her train of thoughts. She flushed herself, enjoying the sensation of the warm perfumed water on her face and body, and the calming effect it had on her.

Dressed in her nightgown, she lay on the bed they would be sharing soon. During their escapade, he had never dared come close to her: either sleeping on the floor, leaving her alone in the bed, or sitting on a chair. Just that one night, when she had abruptly woken up from a nightmare about her recently deceased friend, and had started to cry, arms wrapped around herself. She had felt his embrace and his hand southing her hair repeating over and over that _she wasn't alone _until she had fallen asleep. Eyelids heavy, worn out by the long road, she fell asleep deep in her contemplations.

She woke up in the dark, the last candle having died out long ago. The spot next to her was still empty and cold; yet the night hasn't gone by. She tied her robe and exited the tent. She passed through the small encampment, each vigil she passed by, gracing her with a surprised but respectful bow coupled with a barely audible _Your Grace_.

It was near the river, guarded by a dozen men that she noticed his tall figure, stare lost on the horizon. Seemingly to a beautiful painting, tainted by the red vermilion of the fire, he looked regal under the starry sky. Her heart skipped a bit upon this magnificent vision, if a painting had never been made of him; this very moment was the perfect scenery to create it.

Silently, she positioned herself beside him, her place from now on. They stood there silent, watching the unpredictable flow of the river, listening to her enchanting music, while the wind blew softly causing the leaves to whisper. The silence wasn't awkward, as it allowed them to appreciate this moment of peace, the guards slowly retreating to allow them some discretion. It was he who broke the silence:

"Her Majesty shouldn't be wandering around in the darkness."

"I was looking for you."

"I thought you would enjoy some privacy."

She chuckled, "We've been on the run, together for seven days ... and _nights_... Now, that we are engaged isn't it a little too late for privacy?"

"We got engaged to save my brother's life…" He reminded her "I can't help but resent, that a part of you would rather be with him. I accept that, but the feeling, of being with you without having your heart fully is frustrating."

"Sebastian, while we were on the run, you've seen the real me, not the Queen. You comforted me in a time I terribly needed someone; you saw me at my worst: unkempt, wet and dirty," the last three words were pronounced with a cute grin, and contagiously, he felt himself beam reminiscing the hardship they've been through.

"However, not once you made me feel like I wasn't worth the effort. Your loyalty didn't falter, no matter the obstacle in our way, you helped me overcome it. Is it surprising that today, I consider you more than a friend?" Having cleared all doubts in her mind with her own answers, she had intuitively turned in his direction, and stroked his hand; fingers lightly intertwined. Fully embracing the pull she felt toward him, while allowing her newfound feelings to flourish.

"I wanted you to know me, that is all," the innocent contact of their fingers aroused their senses; he held his other hand to her face, gently brushing the skin of her cheek, then bringing their foreheads together.

"But you know me... I'm Mary" she whispered, one hand still in his, while the other reached the one on her cheek; she held it there, eyes closed, appreciating the warmth of his palm on her face.

"And I'm Sebastian."

"Funny, I've never seen you at court before"

"Because," he swallowed hard as she brought the back of his hand to her mouth, caressing each knuckles with her full lips. "I am a bastard."

"They told me you're a flirt."

"I was…" he started, cupping her face with both hands "Then you stepped down that carriage and my fate was sealed," breathing out these words, he felt a burden had been lifted off his chest, for they had waited long to reach their destination.

Leaving her cheeks, his hands traveled down her neck fingers grazing the skin, hovering over her chest without lingering, caressing her stomach till they held onto the knot of her robe. They paused, waiting for an answer to a silent question to which an equally silent nod was her answer. With no rush, the cotton robe was discarded.

Sebastian admired the exquisite woman he held in his arm under the moonlight, her raven hair and dark eyes complimented by her golden richly embroidered nightgown. His mind was still unable to process that the attraction he had suppressed for so long, wasn't unrequited anymore.

"Are you cold?" He enquired, feeling her shiver under his palm, rubbing her upper arms to warm her up. The heat of the day had given way to more pleasant temperatures, but for her bare shoulders, nights were fresh.

"No, this is all your doing," She murmured as her lips stretched into a smile "…And the yearning," She added, kissing the side of his neck. Their faces, no more than an inch apart, feeling the heat of each other's breath. Their lips pretended to ignore each other in a seduction game, similar to a love parade.

"I will be yours and only yours…" The words were breathed rather than spoken. He brought her wrist to his lips, "As a man," kissing its sensitive inner skin, "and as a King". His words, coupled with his actions, compelled her to place her hands on his chest right over his heart. Craving the feel of his skin, she felt that these fabrics between them, as noble as they were, were too many.

She helped him out of his doublet, caressing all the way from his torso to his shoulders, freeing him from the weight of his new status. He let her slide it off his arms, and to the floor. The feeling of her delicate hands undressing him, intensified his desire like never before.

Not satisfied yet, she proceeded to get rid of his tunic and reaching the hems, pulled it over his head. Again, he let her do as she pleased, another unspoken understanding between them.

In an almost clinical way, Mary observed every detail of his chiseled bare chest: his matte skin tone so different than Francis' fair porcelain skin, the scars he had from battlefield. Similar to a blind woman willing to remember ever part of him, she barely noticed the arrhythmic change in his breathing her caresses provoked, the sensual torture she was inflicting him.

"You even bled for my country," She sighed, her voice deep with the realization that many times, he had braved death because of her. She let her fingertips caress the damaged surface of his skin wishing she had the power to erase it.

"For you," He corrected, his voice raspy. "I bled for you," lowering his head to hers, brushing the tip of her nose with his, he initiated the contact they were both anticipating. Their lips touched, innocently at first, they didn't move savoring the tender contact for a moment.

He withdrew slowly, to observe her one last time, for after this kiss, he knew there was no turning back: he would fall helplessly. Willingly, she leaned in once again to capture his lips with hers, wrapping her arms around his waist.

That night, as his hands caressed her face and while their tongue dueled gently, then passionately; she understood she wanted to give everything to him, whom had already done so much for her. It was clear now her desire was to be with him, crown or not, no matter what awaited them tomorrow. No matter the obstacles, they would have each other, always. She would never be alone again.

Though they didn't consummate their union that night, they were brought closer, reaching the perfect point were the heart, mind and love melted in one.

**~ The End ~**

**Author's Note 2: Still not sure about the end, it might change. **


End file.
